


Endeavour: Delights

by Parakeetist



Category: Endeavour (TV), Inspector Morse (TV), Inspector Morse - Colin Dexter
Genre: Arguments, Bank Robbery, Butter, Donut and bagel delivery, F/M, Gift, Jewelry, Not really a robbery, Sandwiches, Two flavors of jam, Very frightened delivery clerk, ale, dumb arguments, fruit juice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:48:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25174876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Parakeetist/pseuds/Parakeetist
Summary: Endeavour: Delightsby ParakeetistSet after series seven. Morse and Strange are dispatched to a bank. It turns out to be… less than they were expecting. 1971 continues.Toward the end of the story, there is a conversation, mostly in Scots Gaelic. It goes like this:“Gabh mo leisgeul, madam,” she said. (“Excuse me, madam.”)“Seadh, a bhean og?” the woman returned. (“Yes, young miss?”)“Dè cho fada ‘s a bhios an taigh-tasgaidh sin fosgailte?” (“Until what time will that museum be open?”)“Gu seachd feasgar an-diugh.” (“Until seven this evening.”)“Tapadh leat gu mòr.” (“Thank you very much.”)“Chan eil trioblaid ann.” (“No problem.”)The trip to Edinburgh is a nod to the upbringing of one of the actors.If I’ve made any errors, either in Scots or in English, please forgive me.And to those who may think, "There can't be any happy titles in this series, because nothing happy ever happens," let me remind you of 'Confections' from series six. Not a happy ending to the episode, but still, there was chocolate.Thank you.
Relationships: Endeavour Morse/Joan Thursday, Fred Thursday/Win Thursday
Kudos: 2





	Endeavour: Delights

Endeavour: Delights  
by Parakeetist

“Why are we still doing calls like these?” Detective Sergeant Morse asked, as Jim Strange stepped on the gas.  
“A lot of junior officers have quit, and one of the few senior ones broke his leg, chasing a suspect.  
“Well, did we ever catch the man he was looking for?”  
“Yes. He was hiding in a produce truck. Owner had to wash out a lot of the content.”  
Endeavour snorted. They drove up to the bank, and parked.  
Inside, there was a man in a chicken suit. A security guard had a rifle pointed at him.  
“But I’m not here to do anything wrong!” shrieked the chicken man. “I’m just delivering donuts!”  
Slowly, a woman in the crowd raised her arm. “Officer? I can certify that. I’ve seen him in a couple of other places, and I’ve heard his voice. He handles deliveries for this part of town.”  
The man with the gun lowered it and put it away. Jim and Endeavour stepped forward. “We’re with Kidlington Station.” They held out their warrant cards.  
“I promise you, it’s just the regular Tuesday order of donuts and bagels!” the chicken man wailed.  
“Very slowly,” Jim Strange ordered, put both boxes next to each other, on that table over there, and raise the lids.”  
The man did as instructed. They contained exactly what he said: donuts, bagels, butter, and two flavors of little cups of jam.  
Jim nodded. “Now I’m going to pat down your costume, and remove it.”  
Strange did so with caution. The man turned out to be harmless. Under the costume, he was wearing a button -up, short-sleeved shirt, a pair of black slacks, and trainers. Not a weapon, and nothing else on him but keys, a notepad, and a pen in his pocket.  
“Can I call my manager?” said the man, whose name turned out to be Herbert Jefferson.  
“Okay, man. Go ahead.”  
A relieved Herbert headed for the phone.  
Morse thought he recognized the voice of the woman who had raised her hand to support Mr. Jefferson. He moved his head to get a better view. Yes, it was Joan Thursday.  
Morse waved to Joan. She nodded back. “I just have to make this deposit!” she said, and turned back to waiting in line.  
In a few minutes, she completed her agenda at the front counter, and put her receipt in her pocketbook. She rushed over to stand next to Jim and Endeavour. “Some day for that poor guy, huh.”  
“Yeah. Let’s get a business card from him, so we can order next, for Kidlington.” Jim smiled briefly.  
Joan did just that. “Hello, I’m Ms. Thursday. I would like to know if I can have a business card for your company? Might want to consider limiting the chicken outfit for children’s parties.”  
“That’s a good call,” said the sweaty Mr. Jefferson. He produced a card from his wallet.  
“May I try one for myself?” Joan said, pointing to the box.  
“Sure, go ahead.”  
Joan took a bite of a pink donut with sprinkles, and smiled. “These are very good! I hadn’t known your name before.”  
“Nor I yours.”  
“Oh. I’m Joan Thursday. Nice to meet you, Mr. Jefferson.”  
“Call me Bert.”  
“Well then, with this card, you’ll be getting a few orders from the boys in blue over there.”  
“Thank you.”  
“Get some water for yourself, before you pass out.”  
“That I will.”  
Bert got a drink of water, then picked up the parts of his costume. He tugged at the belt of his regular slacks.  
“I hope I don’t run into you gentlemen again, unless you want some food,” Bert said with a sheepish grin.  
“Our compliments to yourself, and the manager,” Endeavour said.  
“Thank you, sir,” Bert said. “Am I free to go?”  
“Yes, you are,” Morse said, and Bert left the bank.  
“Well, that’s a relief,” Joan said.  
“Especially considering what happened the last time you had a kerfluffle in a bank,” Jim said.  
“Shh,” Morse answered. “What say we both radio the station to tell them our shifts are over, and then go get something to eat?”  
“Wouldn’t mind that a bit,” Jim said, and walked outside to make the call.  
Half an hour later, the three occupied a table at Ewan’s Sandwiches. Jim and Endeavour chugged ales. Joan sipped a fruit juice.  
“When are we ever going to get you on the good stuff?” Jim asked.  
“Oh, I like my vodka.” Joan drank juice again.  
“Fruit juice is for kids,” Jim declared.  
“And it’s on the menu for everyone.”  
“Oh, let her,” Morse said. “At least she won’t have trouble walking out of here.”  
Jim stuck his tongue out at Morse.  
The food arrived. Everyone dug in. “Oh! I almost forgot.” Morse fumbled in the pocket of his coat. “This is for you.” He handed it to Joan.  
“Oh?” Her eyebrows went up.  
“It’s a little thing I got the other day. For winning the strength contest, for my rank.” Endeavour beamed.  
“I was only a little bit behind you,” Jim fumed. “I could have beat you in weightlifting.”  
“Could have. Did not.”  
“Don’t you have a grand-uncle you could give that to?” Jim muttered. “It’s a little weird, giving strength-related things to, you know, a girl.”  
“All of mine have since shuffled off this Earth. Can it.”  
Joan opened the box. She beamed and fastened it at the back of her neck. “It looks great. The Detective Sergeant’s emblem, above a hand holding up a barbell.”  
“Did you have it specially put on a necklace, instead of a pin, for her?” Jim snorted. “You two. Why don’t you just kiss and get it over with?”  
“When’s the last time you took someone out?” Endeavour shot back.  
Jim mumbled into his beer, and ordered another.  
Endeavour got up to use the washroom. Jim began to fiddle with his right ear.  
“Do all of you do that?” Joan chuckled. “That thing with your ear? If you want to go out with someone, just ask.”  
“Yeah, the last time you tried to help him, he nearly jumped in the river,” Jim blurted.  
“Hey!” Joan retorted. “He is his own man, responsible for his own actions.”  
“I’m not sure that you don’t tilt him to much to the wrong side.”  
Joan glowered. Endeavour walked back from the restroom.  
He noticed the foul mood immediately. “Now, what’s this?”  
“Your pet here is determined to go around looking like a man. If she’s ready to put her strength to the test, I can help.”  
“Hey!” said a new voice, from the front corner of the shop. It was the owner, a thin man with a mustache. He strode over. “We’ll have none of this nonsense here. Ladies are welcome in this shop.”  
“You seem to have two of ‘em here.”  
“Oi! That’s enough! You are not welcome in here anymore. Don’t come back.” Mr. Ewan waved between Jim and the door.  
Muttering, Jim took his hat and walked out.  
“Is that all? Everything good?” Ewan said.  
“Yes, we’re fine.” Morse tugged at his coat. “We’ll be back.”  
“Thank you.” The man went back to the front counter.  
Endeavour and Joan walked up the street. “I didn’t want that to happen,” Joan said. “I’m sorry.”  
“Oh, he gets grouchy all the time. I wish he’d find his own someone to hang around with. I’ll talk him down.”  
“Thank you,” Joan murmured. “Don’t want to cause a rift in the department.”  
“You won’t.” Morse reached out and held her hand. She blushed.  
“So, my parents are headed off to Cardiff pretty soon. Looks like a good sign.”  
“I’ll say.”  
“Mom gets to do all the skiing she wants. Dad gets to-”  
“Fall down as much as he wants.”  
“Hey! How did you know that used to happen?”  
“I’ve been in your father’s office many times. He put up a picture, of him falling over, and your mother-to-be laughing at him. Don’t know who took the picture, but it is pretty funny.”  
“That was probably Perry Haskins. He married Sharon. Before they got married, they and my Mom and Dad used to go on a lot of trips together.”  
“I don’t know who’ll hold the camera for you and I, when we go out.”  
“Oh!” Her outlook brightened considerably. “Are we going somewhere?”  
“I always thought I wanted to see Scotland.”  
“That sounds amazing! What part?”  
“Edinburgh.”  
“I’d like that.”  
“I always thought I couldn’t get around the accent.”  
“Oh, my Mom and Dad went once. They said you can figure it out, if you try.”  
“They should write a book one day.”  
“I’ll bet they will.”  
The two had walked down the street far enough to reach a very small park. They settled on a bench. Morse watched as a little boy followed gull birds, trying to drape them in turn with a facial tissue. Each one became startled and waddled away.  
“Tom, go easy, please,” his mother said, from a few meters away. She stood next to another woman. The little boy took a leaf out of his pocket, and offered it to the next bird. The gull tilted his head, and took the leaf. It hopped off.  
“Sometimes a different way works,” Joan said.  
“Yes,” Morse said. He squeezed her hand. “Speaking of. Are you thinking of getting one of those?”  
“A bird? Well, a gull would be trouble. You couldn’t keep it in a cage.”  
“I meant the boy.”  
Joan’s eyes opened wide. “Whatever do you mean?” she asked, knowing exactly what he meant.  
“I once asked a priest what it takes to be married in the eyes of God. He said, a church wedding. The government paperwork helps to hold on to your rights under the law, but it’s not needed for the church’s purpose.”  
“You sound… a little afraid,” Joan said. She looked down. “If that is what you mean, I wouldn’t rather put both of us through it at all.”  
“There’s always going to be fear. What I learned at the academy is, you just keep going through it.”  
“That is true.” She clutched his hand in return. “Then I want to. I will.”  
They kissed. “I’ll book Edinburgh?” he said. 

…

Morse had made the travel arrangements for October, thinking it’d be late enough in the year for everything to be pretty, but early enough to miss the snow. He was wrong on the second count.  
In the afternoon, Endeavour paid for a carriage. He and Joan smiled as they watched the scenery. Everywhere you turned, there were wonderful things to see – and snowflakes floating down to cover them.  
“Oh, look at that,” Morse said, as he scanned the top corner of a long avenue. The carriage stopped at a light. “Is that a museum?” Endeavour asked.  
“It is,” Joan said.  
“What time are they open ‘til?”  
Joan leaned over and asked an older woman some questions. “Gabh mo leisgeul, madam,” she said.  
“Seadh, a bhean og?” the woman returned.  
“Dè an uair a tha an taigh-tasgaidh sin fosgailte?”  
“Gu seachd feasgar an-diugh.”  
“Tapadh leat gu mòr.”  
“Chan eil trioblaid ann.”  
Joan smiled and lifted her hand. The woman did likewise.  
Endeavour wrinkled his nose. “Well, what was all of that?”  
“She says it’s open ’til seven tonight.”  
Morse shuddered. “I’d better remember who really knows things around here.”  
Joan laughed.

...

Hours later, in their hotel room, they lay under the covers. The fireplace had been lit. Joan watched as the light flickered over them. Morse stretched his legs and let out a a deep sigh. “Don’t let anybody tell you that you’re bad at anything, ever.”  
“Ah, you,” she said, and chucked him under the chin. She gently leaned her head on his shoulder. “Darling.”  
His eyes went wide, and he blushed. He cleared his throat. “You know, I’ve been thinking. You were right about not wanting a boy.”  
“I was?” she said, her voice full of worry.  
“No, now I want a girl as well. You’ll have to pick twice the names.”  
“And is that to start?”  
“Yes, might be more later.”  
“Well, you,” she said, throwing an arm over his chest, “let’s get to work on it.”  
“It never ends,” he said. “At least, I hope not,” and kissed her. 

THE END


End file.
